Really Shoudnt Have Cried Murtagh Oneshot
by ravanstrawberry
Summary: Murtagh scooted closer to Thorn, resting his head on his most trusted friend's side, and soon fell asleep. Whether it was the rain, or something else, Murtagh's worst memories came to him in sleep, unbidden and unwanted.


Really shouldn't have cried. (A Murtagh Oneshot)

A/N: This was not written by me, it was, in fact, sent to me in the mail. I only fixed the spelling and grammar mistakes, and I added the disclaimer. Although, I'm debating making a sequel, called 'And then Morzan got a pike up his ass'

Anyway, READ ON!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Eragon and everything associated with belong to Christopher Paolini. The only thing I claim is my crazy! *Grabs Murtagh and holds him close while growling and waving Zar'roc like a mad woman*

Warning: This contains mild language and sexual content

Murtagh and Thorn were currently under a canopy of trees as it rained. Heavily.

Earlier they had been out, enjoying a small dose of freedom before the rain hit, causing them to seek shelter under the trees.

_Boom_!

The thunder roared so loud, Murtagh jumped, causing Thorn to laugh.

'Leave it to a human to fear noise.' Thorn spoke in Murtagh's mind.

In truth, it wasn't so much the noise as it was the memories it brought with it. Terrible frightening things, belonging to Murtagh's past.

But he quickly shook his head, ridding himself of the things.

Murtagh scooted closer to Thorn, resting his head on his most trusted friend's side, and soon fell asleep.

Whether it was the rain, or something else, Murtagh's worst memories came to him in sleep, unbidden and unwanted.

He was 6 years old, and outside playing by himself, he knew this memory well, for it was the one he had tried to rid himself of earlier.

6 year old Murtagh was pretending to have sword fights with invisible enemies, waving a little brown stick in the air as he heroically defeated them one by one, when his attention was drawn to a big, fat, blue and black butterfly.

He watched with rapt attention as the butterfly flew lazily, almost reminding Murtagh of a drunk, and it caused him to giggle.

He quickly chased after the thing, trying to copy its movements and catch it at the same time.

Unfortunately his fun was cut short, as his father, Morzan made an appearance.

If there was one thing in the world that really scared the child, it was Morzan.

Morzan scared Murtagh worse than anything Murtagh could think of, whether it was real, or some imagined creature slithering through the dark, ready to strike, Murtagh still feared his father worst of all.

Morzan, with one fast step, crushed the butterfly under his boot, then picked Murtagh up by the neck and threw him across the yard.

Murtagh skidded and rolled, before coming to a stop. Nothing broke, yet he was now covered in cuts and bruises were beginning to form.

His little eyes swelled with tears, and he tried in vain to hold them back, yet they fell anyway, and soon gave way to sobs.

"Damned brat! Men don't cry like little pissy babies!" Morzan strode over to Murtagh and glared down at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Cant help it." Murtagh said quietly, in between sobs.

Morzan seemed furious at the answer the boy gave. He picked Murtagh up roughly by the arm, and something popped that shouldn't have.

"Then it will be punished out of you." Morzan roared, and dragged Murtagh along into the mansion, then into Murtagh's bedroom, where he threw Murtagh onto the bed.

Murtagh hit the headboard with his own head and a fresh wave of tears began, he held his small head, and it was then that he noticed Morzan unbuttoning his pants.

Time stood still, everything went by so agonizingly slow. Murtagh's clothes being ripped off of him, and then he was screaming in pain, as Morzan 'punished' him, holding his hand over the boys little mouth as he did something unspeakable.

For some reason, it Murtagh noticed that he could hear thunder in the background, but he didn't remember it looking like it would rain.

When it was over, Morzan zipped his pants and left Murtagh alone.

Alone, naked, and sore, Murtagh laid quietly he wasn't completely sure what happened, but he laid still and silent, violated and in pain. And it wasn't the last time it would happed.

Murtagh woke with a start, the memory still fresh in his mind, all he could think was 'I really shouldn't have cried.'


End file.
